


Are you sure?

by norgbelulah



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norgbelulah/pseuds/norgbelulah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternatively titled, Lincoln actually got to give her that chicken soup (in 4.08) because Peter wasn't there to mess it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you sure?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mona (monanotlisa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monanotlisa/gifts).



> Written for mona, 'cuz I heard she was feeling bad.

"Hey, I heard you were feeling under the weather," Lincoln says when Olivia opens the door. He waves the chicken soup container at her. She looks at him a little blearily and he suddenly feels as though coming here was maybe not the best idea.

But then she smiles and says, "Sorry, I'm a little out of it. I just took some pain meds Nina give me the other day. They're ah, packing quite a wallop."

Lincoln winces. "Oh, sorry, do you, uh, want me to--"

"No, no," she reaches for his sleeve, unexpectedly pulling him across her threshold. "Come on in." She walks into the kitchen, letting go as swiftly as she'd grabbed him. "Will you make some for me?" Her smile stretches, "I'm having trouble concentrating enough to make food."

Olivia's hair is pulled back into a haphazard bun, little tendrils frame her face and it's sort of sticking up in the back as though she'd been sleeping right before he came. Her face shows the tightens he's come to recognize as her way of concealing pain, but there's something in her eyes that convinces him she really is glad to see him.

"Sit down," he invites as he takes off his coat, throwing it over the stool opposite the one she climbs onto.

He starts to search for a bowl in her cabinets and she directs, "Top left." When he looks back at her she's looking at him sideways from where she's pillowed her head on her arms and elbows resting on the counter-top.

"Are you sure you don't want to just rest?" He asks, even though he's already pouring out the soup.

She shakes her head, still not lifting it. "I was resting. Now, I'm hungry. And you're making me food." She says the last like it's some amazing thing and looks up at him with grateful eyes.

He smiles at her. "Yeah, I am."


End file.
